


Must Love Bees

by shiphitsthefan



Series: Tapas [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bees, Drinking, Episode: s02e04 Takiawase, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Smoking, Team Sassy Science, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8016298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiphitsthefan/pseuds/shiphitsthefan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How can you hate bees?” Jimmy asks out of the side of his mouth, lighting his cigarette, flicking the match out onto the pavement of the bar patio. Beverly hands him his pint back when he’s done. “What did bees ever do to you?”</p>
<p>“Nothing,” says Brian before taking a sip of his water. Of all the nights to be the designated driver, it had to be the one where he gets quizzed about bees.</p>
<p>Jimmy looks at Brian like he’s trying to defend Jerry Falwell before taking a long drag. It’s not exactly Brian’s favorite excuse for staring at his coworker, but he won’t complain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Must Love Bees

**Author's Note:**

> I think I've shipped Brian/Jimmy longer than I've shipped Hannibal/Will. They're just so married. It's canon, okay?
> 
> Thanks to [Hannibal Cre-Ate-Ive](http://hannibalcreative.tumblr.com/post/147505188389/the-hannibal-fandom-is-not-only-a-creative-and) for running the [#EatTheRare Festival](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/HanniCreative_EatTheRare) and giving me an excuse to finally write Preller. Further thanks to [Llewcie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Llewcie/works) for being an excellent beta and more excellent hooman bean. <3

Bugs usually don’t bother Brian; if they did, he wouldn’t have gone anywhere  _ near _ this business. Insects are just another unfortunate part of nature, and he’s never enjoyed the great outdoors. Still, spiders, flies, roaches, anything from Class Insecta--name it, Brian’s seen it, and nine times out of ten, it wasn’t on a National Geographic special.

Bees, however, are a completely different story.

“How can you hate bees?” Jimmy asks out of the side of his mouth, lighting his cigarette, flicking the match out onto the pavement of the bar patio. Beverly hands him his pint back when he’s done. “What did bees ever do to you?”

“Nothing,” says Brian before taking a sip of his water. Of all the nights to be the designated driver, it had to be the one where he gets quizzed about bees.

“You allergic?”

“No.”

“Is it just regular bees, or honey bees?” asks Beverly.

“Both.”

Jimmy scoffs. “How can you hate bees?”

“You already asked that.” Brian scowls at him. He’s trying to, anyway; Jimmy amuses him constantly, even if he is frequently annoying. Especially concerning human hives and the rights for their residents to remain at crime scenes.

“I just think it’s interesting,” Beverly begins, “that you two, thick as thieves, are at completely opposite ends of the spectrum on this.”

“We’re not thick as thieves,” says Brian.

“He doesn’t like bees,” Jimmy reminds her, gesturing with his cigarette. “I have no idea how we’ve been friends this long.”

“I don’t like bees! So what?”

Jimmy looks at him like he’s trying to defend Jerry Falwell before taking a long drag. It’s not exactly Brian’s favorite excuse for staring at his coworker, but he won’t complain.

Beverly snorts. “Once stung, twice shy?”

“Never  _ been _ stung.”

“Un-bee-lievable.”

Brian glares at her. “That was  _ awful.” _

She shrugs. “I’ve been hanging out in the lab with Lecter too much recently.”

“Did you know that if it weren’t for bees, the human race would go extinct?” asks Jimmy, seemingly oblivious to the punnery. “Without bees, Brian, you wouldn’t eat. They pollinate a third--” And Jimmy pokes Brian in the chest with the finger of the hand holding his ale. “--A  _ third _ of the world’s crops.”

Brian looks at Beverly for help. She smiles at him behind her pint glass and shakes her head. “At least he isn’t drunk,” she says before taking a sip.

“Honey mead.” Jimmy takes one last puff before flicking the butt of his cigarette into the same puddle of rain as the match. “I have honey mead back at my apartment. You should come up when you drop me off and try a little.”

“Oh my God,” says Beverly, laughing. “That’s even flimsier than, ‘Do you want to come up for a cup of coffee?’”

Brian frowns slightly and tries not to feel hopeful. Jimmy’s not flirted with him in a long time, and he flirts with everyone. Besides, with Jimmy and his barely-restrained flamboyance in the department, Brian is automatically assumed straight, which is both a blessing and a curse.

“Look, Beverly, you can’t drink honey mead and not appreciate bees, okay?” Jimmy goes to take another drink, then adds, “Purely academic.”

“Academic my ass,” Beverly mumbles. “You didn’t even invite me.”

Jimmy swallows. “Are you anti-bee?”

“I’m more bee neutral.”

“Well there you go.”

“What, you don’t want to swing me over to your side?” asks Beverly slyly. “Don’t want to give me a...nudge in the right direction?”

Brian spends the rest of the evening listening to their spirited, innuendo-laden banter. A lobotomy wouldn’t be so bad right now, he thinks. Minus the bees, at least.

 

* * *

 

They drop Beverly off first, and she gives Brian the most outrageously conspiratorial wink before she opens the door to her apartment. “You have a good night,” she says. “Be safe.”

Brian rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up.” She smiles and waves, wishes him a good night, and closes the door. Brian stands and waits to hear the locks turn, then waits for a few minutes more, then turns to go back to the elevator. It’s as much a habit for him as their weekly bar outing.

“You always walk her to the door,” Jimmy observes when Brian climbs back in the car.

“After the stuff I’ve seen come into the lab,” says Brian, going for his seat belt, “I feel better making sure she’s made it all the way.”

“You never check to see if I’ve made it all the way.” Jimmy sounds positively lascivious, but Brian knows it’s just the alcohol talking; Jimmy only makes a pass at him if he’s had a drink or two. It would upset Brian, but he’s used to being the bar pick-up and one night stand guy by now.

“You’re too irritating to need to worry about.” He pauses, grins, and adds, “You’re not as pretty as Beverly, either.”

“I would be insulted if you weren’t right. Still,” says Jimmy, settling back into his seat as Brian starts the car, “even an ugly girl like me’s gotta be on her guard.”

“You’re not a girl.”

“You’re supposed to say I’m not ugly, Brian. This is exactly why you’re still single.”

“And here I thought it was my charming disposition.”

Jimmy huffs. “That certainly doesn’t help.”

They bicker playfully back and forth like that for the remainder of the drive. Brian usually flicks on his blinkers and drops Jimmy off at the end of his street and asks for his fare; Beverly, when it’s her turn to stay sober, always tells him to get ready to tuck and roll. Habits with them, always, creatures thereof. Makes it easier to remember what happened that way, keeping the details a known factor, in case something uncouth should occur. At least, that’s how Brian sees it.

Tonight, though, Brian drives down Jimmy’s street and looks for a place to park.

“What’s this?” asks Jimmy as Brian parallel parks with surprisingly less effort than usual.

“I’m walking you to your door.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, “I was only teasing.”

Brian turns off the car, takes off his belt, and gets out. “I know that,” says Brian. He walks around the front of the car and opens Jimmy’s door. When Jimmy doesn’t move, Brian holds out his hand; when Jimmy smirks and takes it, his heart nearly stops.

“You’re chock full of surprises, you know that?”

“I’m just--” Brian clears his throat, but doesn’t let go of Jimmy’s hand.  “I--I was just…” Jimmy closes the car door with his foot, never turning around. He’s looking at Brian like he’s never seen him, but he likes what he sees, and it’s creeping down Brian’s spine as much as the sweat beading at the back of his neck will soon.

“Just being a gentleman?” Jimmy pries Brian’s keys out of his hand. He presses the button on the fob to lock the doors, then drags Brian onto the sidewalk. “Gonna give me a kiss goodnight when we get there?”

“I--I--um.”

Jimmy stops walking and drops his hand, slowly, maybe regretfully, though Brian’s head is spinning a bit too hard to do more than assume. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “That was...I shouldn’t’ve said that.”

“It’s okay,” because it is, sort of. It would be if he thought Jimmy was even close to being interested in Brian kissing him.

“No,” insists Jimmy, as they start walking again. “I know that kind of thing bothers you. It’s why I stopped flirting with you, because you never said anything, because you’re so straight that--”

“I’m not straight,” Brian blurts out, and then Jimmy stops walking again, and Brian jams his hands in his pockets nervously, and  _ oh shit oh shit oh shit why did I say that why did I say _

“You...aren’t?”

“I’m not exactly flitting around all over the place like you do, but...yeah. I mean, no,” he clarifies. “Not straight. But not gay, just...y’know.”

“Can you not even  _ say  _ bisexual, Brian?”

If Brian clears his throat one more time, he’s going to need cough drops all day tomorrow. But not the ones with honey. “Never really--” He clears his throat, anyway. “Never really had to.”

“Huh.” Jimmy doesn’t look shocked. His face is surprisingly blank, considering Jimmy.

“Jesus,” says Brian after a long, awkward pause, “say something.”

“Well, it does explain why you enjoy having that stick up your ass all the time.”

Brian starts giggling. He’s not sure if he’s ever actually giggled before, yet here he is, on a sidewalk in Manassas, walking his coworker to his door like they’re in the middle of some messed up romcom about crime scene investigators.

Jimmy links their elbows together and pulls Brian along. “Maybe I should invite you up for coffee.”

“As long as it isn’t honey mead.”

“I can’t believe you don’t like bees!”

Brian groans. “Don’t start that again.”

“Bees are very important to me,” he says, and pulls Brian close enough to make him put his arm around Jimmy’s back reflexively. Jimmy lays his head on Brian’s shoulder and wraps his own arm around him. “We wouldn’t have flowers without pollinators, you know. And then you wouldn’t be able to bring me any when we go out this weekend.”

“We’re going out this weekend?” asks Brian, and his face is legitimately going to crack if he doesn’t start smiling.

“Just as soon as you ask me to dinner.”

Brian drops the side of his head to rest on top of Jimmy’s. “Where do you wanna go?”

“There’s this great little place that does up an amazing barbecue chicken with honey--”

“I changed my mind.”

Jimmy crosses his arm over his chest to grab Brian’s hand. “I don’t believe you. You couldn’t turn this down even if you  _ were _ straight.”

“You’re so vain.” Brian shakes his head and disentangles himself from Jimmy’s arm.

“Fine, fine. Don’t bring me flowers if you don’t want to. Still coming up?”

“Against my better judgment,” he replies, and follows Jimmy up the exterior stairs. “You got coffee that isn’t made out of bee products?”

“I don’t know,” says Jimmy, looking over his shoulder coyly, “but you might get lucky.”

**Author's Note:**

> AND THEN THEY WENT TO DINNER AND BEVERLY LIVED AND EVERYTHING TURNED OUT FINE FOR EVERYONE THE END
> 
> You can find me on my [tumblr](http://shiphitsthefan.tumblr.com/). I also chirp occasionally witty things on [twitter](https://twitter.com/shiphitsthefan).
> 
> Kudos and comments validate my existence. <3


End file.
